It was because of this mark that my father named me Luna.

The elder of the two said in broken English: "'What is your name, pretty little girl ?' "I told him it was Luna Holmes.

Then he drew from his robe a box made of scented wood, and, opening it, took out some sweetmeat which looked as if it had been frozen, and gave me a piece that, being very fond of sweet, I put into my mouth.

Next, he bowled the hoop along the ground into the shadow of the trees--it was evening time and beginning to grow dark--saying, 'Run, catch it, little girl!' "I began to run, but something in the taste of that sweet caused me to drop it from my lips.

Then all grew misty, and the next thing I remember was finding myself in the arms of the younger Eastern, with the nurse and her 'cousin,' a stalwart person like a soldier, standing in front of us.
"'Little girl go ill,' said the elder Arab.